


Coffee, Tom?

by AliceRayne



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU- JK Rowling's book pretty much mever happened, Coffee is a trouble maker, F/M, Fluff, Fluff Dump, Friends to Lovers, Gen, I am seriously mucking about with canon, I blame Christian Coulson's photo, Kid!Fic, M/M, Modern AU, Riddle is 17, Starbucks is overpriced but I love it., Still Magical, Tom Loves Coffee, harry is 15, i think, so does Tom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-04-09
Updated: 2015-05-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 01:53:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3710485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AliceRayne/pseuds/AliceRayne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry and Tom are best friends, had been so since Harry was seven and Tom nine, even if Tom lived with his parents in one end of Godric's Hollow and Harry the other end. You could say Harry knew a lot about Tom and vice versa. </p>
<p>So while everyone worshipped the ground the prat walked on, there is one weakness about Tom that could get rid of all that perfect image everyone held of him. Stupidly enough, it was the simplest thing that no one would have thought of it. </p>
<p>Coffee. The Slytherin Prince's weakness is coffee. He couldn't begin to function without it. He needed it. </p>
<p>Harry just wished that Tom getting coffee would stop effecting him in any way. (It probably won't ever happen)</p>
<p>OR</p>
<p>Five times Tom got coffee and it was bad for Harry and the one time it wasn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heeeyyyy
> 
> So this is my first work on this fandom. I'd love it if some ConCrit is given, would really like to improve myself one way or another. 
> 
> This will be hopefuly very quick as I'm just writing on phone and word limit exists. I'm guessing it might take me about four days or so to finish up everything. 
> 
> Hope you guys like this fic. I sure did love writing it! :D

1\. Hogwarts Third Year, 2010

Harry's eyebrows twitched in annoyance as he waited impatiently for his-he checked his wrist watch-forty five minutes late best friend to arrive where they agreed to meet at. He huffed irritatedly as he was bumped into again. He was short and small, this he understood very well. But don't people have eyes or something to navigate themselves?! Merlin damn it all.

All in all he concluded that Athena's Lane was NOT a place to be idling in, what with it being near constantly packed with harried wizards and witches getting about their business. Harry swore that if Tom didn't get there within the next five minutes he WILL leave, Tom and his feelings bedamned- 

"Harry!" called a familiar voice from somewhere behind him. He whirled around in the direction of the voice. His hands were balled into fists resting on his hips, mouth just opening to give Tom a lecture on punctuality and its importance. Then he saw the thing the older wizard held in his hand and his jaw shut closed with an audible click; he also saw the sheepish grin said teen had on his fucking ridiculous face. 

"You were late because you went to get your fucking caffeine fix from Starbucks?!"

"Err... Sorry?" 

"Apologetic people aren't supposed to grin when saying sorry, Tom." he replied, feeling decidely unimpressed at his taller friend. 

"There was a long line, Harry. I HAD to get my coffee. You know what I'm like in the mornings without them." it irked Harry that the bastard didn't look the least bit guilty over making him wait for forty minutes past the time they promised to meet.

The unimpressed feeling was intensified double fold at his reasoning. He really hoped his face was making it very clear to Tom just how not amused he was. 

"And you couldn't have messaged me on the diary to tell me this so I could have, oh I don't know, ducked into a shop and waited for you there instead of continuously going in and out of shops in case you came and didn't see me?" 

"Umm..." Tom rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. NOW looking somewhat guilty. Harry was still angry though. 

"Yeah, thought so." he sniffed, glad that he won an argument with the damn Slytherin once in a while. He looked away from his somewhat dejected looking friend, and, no. He did not feel guilty for puttting that look on his face. The red eyed brunette deserved it. He did. No denying that, he waited FORTY FIVE MINUTES like an idiot out on the streets. He even skipped breakfast because he thought he was late and... 

Bloody hell, it doesn't matter. He sighed then turned around saying "C'mon, if we want to get to Sarah's concert we better hurry. She'll skin us alive if we're late."   
He turned to face his friend then, when he found that said friend was nowhere to be seen. Huh. Odd. When did he move? 

Wait. 

'He left me behind!' this was realized with no small amount of indignance, make no mistake. Harry internally growled as he stalked in the direction of the small amphitheatre his friend's band was going to play in. He saw neither head nor tail of his friend as he walked. 

Harry swore he would Bat Bogie Hex Tom when he saw him at the theatre. Oh the nerve of that buggering bas-A hand pulled at his arm and spun him around suddenly. Hastily he aimed his wand, ready to fire off the Stunning spell and-

He was met with a Starbucks Take-Away paperbag. 

"I figured this would do for an apology." Tom began, grinning like the Cheshire Cat himself. "I got you the Flourless Chewy Chocolate Cookie you like so much."

Harry raised an eyebrow, "Did you just apparate back to the shop or something?"

Tom scoffed, "No, of course not. That would be wasting time. I got it along with my coffee, just for you."

There were no butterflies in his stomach, nope. No siree. "Then where did you go?"

"Disillusionment Charm." he simply explained to him. Looking for all the world like it was a no brainer answer. "The best way to get you out of your anger is to surprise you."

Tom raised an eyebrow, and grinned his stupid crooked to the right grin, looking at him from under his lashes with his damning eyes.

"Did it work?" 

Let it never be said that Harry could deny Tom's earnest looks. Maybe someday, but that day was not it. 

So he sighed resignedly, took the offered bag of treats and smiled at the idiot. "Nope." he sing songed and quickly turned on his heel to walk in the direction of the amphitheatre where Sarah's band would be playing. "Looks like your birthday present this year is a flirting guide for dummies, Tommy." He didn't look back once but he hazarded that he would see Tom gaping at his back, eyes full of disbelief. 

"Harry!" he heard yelled behind him, sounding all too afronted. He couldn't help it. He threw back his head and laughed hard . 

Served him right for making him, Harry, wait for forty five minutes without a good reason other than coffee. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More shenanigans occur with Harry, Tom and his coffee. Oh, and a certain narcissist with an ego to match without the skill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heyy guys!
> 
> So second chapter, in a day. Going good so far! I hope you guys love this as much as I loved writing it. Pretty sure I squealed a little too much while writing it.
> 
> Thanks for all the kudos and comments.
> 
> On with the chapter!

"Tom." Harry called out, his tone just barely hiding his annoyance at Tom's near constant shifting. Mind you, Tom always sat still, his every being focused on the task at hand. However, in this particular instance, he was _twitchy_. Harry wished he could say it was an odd sight. Sadly, it wasn't. He knew exactly what was wrong. 

"Go get your coffee, Tom." he smiled, "I won't blow up my essay with you gone for coffee."

Tom snorted, "Yeah right, Potter. You'd probably wail in misery over it the moment I step out of the library." Then he got right back to his Charms project. His left hand, however imperceptibly, twitched. 

Harry sighed. "Tom, you're twitching."

"I don't twitch, Potter, stop speaking nonsense." he looked so insulted, Harry had to bite his cheeks to keep from smiling. He dusted off imaginary lint on his shoulders, then pulled Harry's essay towards him. His eyes scanning the words, meticulously looking for any mistakes before returning it to him. 

Aside being intelligent, Tom was very precise in everything he did, that was why Harry was incredibly grateful to have him proofread his works. There would never be a spelling, syntax, contextual or whatever error in his works if Tom was somehow involved. Harry checked over his half done Potions essay. 

There were three spelling mistakes, two content, and one definition that were missed out by Tom. Definitely not Tom's best. Harry sighed again, smiling exasperatedly-fond though, always fond- and kicked the idiot on his shin. 

"Go and get your coffee, Tom. I know for a fact you hadn't had any this morning."

Tom raised an eyebrow, "How did you know that?" 

"Aside from this terrible menacing air you've got about you that's making everyone stay away from you and the vicinity of this table?" he shot back wryly.

Just then thay saw a younger student walking a wide berth around and past their table to get to the bookshelf behind them instead of the much simpler walking past their table. 

The red eyed brunette looked sheepish then, "Alright," he lightly agreed. Then he looked inquisitively at Harry, "Do you want something from the kitchens?"

Harry shook his head, "I'm fine. Now go get your caffeine hit."

Tom smiled at him just before he left with a small, "I'll be right back" to Harry. 

Well, Harry thought, that ws one problem settled. He stared at his potions essay and mussed his hair harshly, one problem to go. 

He scratched out the last few lines he wrote on his Potions essay. There was no WAY Uncle Severus would accept that kind of answer on any of his essays. Any bloody idiot could've done it, he would say, and Harry was no idiot. Harry was his mother's son and he will not shame her name by being one. 

A dark red bag with gold/yellow seams and a flashing multicolored star on its front was suddenly dropped on the unused part of their table, startling him badly out of his reverie. Then the owner of said bag dropped into the chair Tom had occupied opposite him with a blindingly bright smile on his face. Harry sighed. Maybe he was an idiot. It's been a continuous cycle of this for three whole weeks! Why couldn't he just tell people a direct no? Why was he so nice? Why did the blonde want to talk to him now out of all the other times? _Merlin_! Harry hoped Tom would return soon.

"Hello Harry!" greeted Gilderoy Lockhart cheerily. His mouth pulled wide in one of his "dazzling" smiles that seemed to enamour most of Hogwarts' student body. Only Slytherins and some Hufflepuffs, Ravenclaws and a few Gryffindors were immune to his "charms". 

Harry's personal opinion of his fellow Gryffindor aside, he was raised with manners befitting a Potter. Therefore he will act as such; (His eyebrow twitched when he felt the other male's feet sliding up against his) no matter how much he wanted to punch the narcissistic blonde's nose in.

He gave him a small smile (one that looked more like a grimace he's sure) and greeted him back. All the while obviously pulling his legs back and to the side, crossed at the ankles. Silence didn't necessarily mean inaction, he thought and tried to project through his eyebrows alone to the blonde. Maybe he'd get the point then? 

Lockhart leaned forward in his seat, an arm propped for his chin to rest on. A smaller, but no less blinding, smile on his face. 'He looks devastating!' his fan girls would as they squealed and swooned. 

"Harry, Harry, _Harry_ " he tutted, a disapproving lilt to his tone, and flipped his (Harry was sure) coiffed hair a little to the side. "How many times must I tell you to call me _Gildy_?" 

His tone became saccharine and coy as he all but purred his words out. His whole mannerisms screamed he was angling for a more intimate situation later. Harry had to have a Herculean kind of control to stop himself from beating "Gildy" silly with the tome he had open before him. Especially since the wizard seemed to be asking for it. 

But, again. Harry was raised to be a polite and respectful wizard. Besides, no tome deserved to make contact with Lockhart's face. The information might be reflected off his teeth and be lost to them forever. 

So, valiantly, Harry pulled another smile on his face (this one felt like one of those lipless smiles) and sweetly said "Perhaps someday, Lockhart. When I've a good reason to call you that," he slowly angled his body in a way that would remove Lockhart from his line of sight, eyes turned down to his book and posture decidely lazy. Some might even say uninterested. "I _might_."

Tact, Harry distinctly remembered Winston Churchill once said, is the ability to tell someone to go to hell in such a way that they look forward to it. 

Harry didn't glance at Lockhart. He was sure the other would understand what he meant easy enough. He was not interested. 

_'Bet you would be if he was Tom instead...!'_

He tamped that clearly insane thought out of his mind. Too late though, he could already feel the heat in his cheeks. Right then he cursed the fact that he had pale skin. 

"Ah! You're blushing! Well, Harry I understand, you must be shy and-"

Oh for Merlin's sake!

"Lockhart I think you'd better lea-" a new voice, Tom, said but he had barely heard it. He was too exasperated with Lockhart and his seemingly willful blindness. 

He roughly stood up, loudly exclaiming that, "No, Lockhart, I'm not shy just terribly uninterested-" he extended a hand towards Lockhart and made a "everything" gesture/flail at his person and then his hand crashed into something... HOT!!!

"OW!!" he groaned as he pulled his burned hand away. 

He vaguely heard the concerned shouts as he felt more of the sting of the hot, hot, hot coffee on some parts of his arm and little dots on his face. 

"Oh no, are you alright Harry?" Tom concernedly asked him, softly cradling his face with such _gentle_ hands. Harry honestly wanted to smack HIS face with the book. Maybe stab him with his quill.

"Such daft questions," he hissed out, half in pain half out of irritation, and glared at his best friend, "are utterly beneath you, my friend." he protectively cradled his hand to his chest and winced at seeing how red it was. 

"Do you always drink scaldingly hot coffee, Tom? If yes, I strongly suggest you stop. Iced coffee is good too _and_ less likely to hurt anyone!" 

Tom rolled his eyes at him, pulled his hand by the wrist so he could examine it. "You would have been fine if you hadn't flailed your hand around too much." he tsked at the redness, looking for all the world to see as if the precious time he used for studying was being wasted. If one was looking properly though, they would see that it was all for show. His eyes were too worried, his hands too careful and his words too soft and kind to be anything but-

Suddenly those hands were pulled away from his face, and he was met with Lockhart's dull blue eyes. The blonde had pulled Tom away and put himself right in his face. To say Harry was shocked, would be an understatement. "It's alright, Harry. I know exactly what to do to heal burns by water. Why, my sister used to always burn her fingers while she cooked or brewed potions and I was usually the one to heal her-"

"Excuse me." He heard Tom coldly, lowly and precisely say as he looked at Lockhart. His eyes were like shards of ice and they sharply regarded the set of hands that felt alien on his skin. "I believe you've intruded on my friend's privacy for long enough." 

Lockhart scoffed, "Look, Riddle, I understand that you're friends with Harry and all but let me inform you I've been tutored by the best of the best at home. Thus, simple healing spells to treat burns are something I can easily do." 

The amount of condescension in his voice was as if he didn't realize he was speaking to _Tom Marvolo Riddle Jr._ , resident Hogwarts genius and Slytherin's heir. Someone who was almost magically capable to duel with Professor Dumbledore. Someone who could probably win if experience and knowledge wasn't an important factor.

Harry looked at Tom, whose shoulders grow tighter by the second, just as he raised his eyebrow and coolly stated like it was an undisputed fact, "I don't doubt your knowledge, Lockhart-"

"Well good, then you'll-" 

"It's your magic that I doubt." Tom easily cuts off what Lockhart was about to say and shoved the shell shocked, wide eyed Gryffindor away. He stood right in front of Harry muttering about idiots and arrogance (making Harry snort at the irony), while beginning to heal some of the burns he had. 

 

It seemed that the shock had worn over for Lockhart because they suddenly heard a sputtering, three parts indignant infinity part insulted behind them. He was ignored though. He wasn't as important as Tom muttering small _"Sorry"s_ for every part of a burn healed. It made his heart fill with warmth-

"How dare you question the worth of my magic, you sodding," sounds of hurried clicking footsteps made his wand hand falter and-

"What in the world is going on-" Madam Pince started to demand of them when she gasped aloud. It sounded like she was horrified. She was even clutching her chest as if she couldn't believe her aged eyes. Harry was confused, Tom had healed the worst of his burns. What was she looking so horrified about?

"Mr Potter, is that the book from the restricted section you asked to borrow for your potions essay?" she sounded as if she was gritting her teeth with every word she said. Her face looked pinched, as if she had eaten a particularly sour lemon. He was about to answer a positive, yes Madam Pince, of course that's the book I borrowed.... Bloody hell. 

Tom's coffee. 

He turned around so quickly his robes made a swishing sound. He didn't do any better than the librarian. In fact, he may have also whimpered. 

A section of the tome he borrowed was drenched in dark coloured coffee (the kind that looks like a little milk is added) and some of it had even made its way to his essay. The liquid causing the ink of his essay to run, making most (almost three fourths of a foot! Harry hysterically observed) of it illegible and ruined. The tome although still looking fine, was wet with coffee and harry could just see the pages beginning to wrinkle. Merlin, he was doomed. He turned to face the severe lady, a dreadful feeling settling deep in his stomach like stones at the bottom of the lake. 

"Well Mr Potter, is it?" she shrewdly asked him. Harry sighed. It looks like he'd be banned from the library. He winced at the thought of his mother finding out in a Hogwarts Official Letter. 

"Yes, Mad-"

"It wasn't his fault, Mada-"

She suddenly turned to glare at Tom, her vulture like eyes narrowed even further. Harry had to repress a chuckle at how uncannily she resembled the bird. 

"And I suppose it was your coffee, Mr Riddle?"

Tom's jaw shut with a snap, his expression turning contrite and sorrowful. "Yes, Ma'am."

"And what about you Mr..."

"Lockhart." Harry noted amusedly that Lockhart looked and sounded scandalized that she didn't know his name.

"Right." she looked Lockhart over, "I remember every face of the students who frequent my library and I have never seen you here before." she gestured to Tom and him, "Those two on the other hand, are in here every other day and are nothing short of reverent for every book they hold for the knowledge each book has and are the few who respect the silence I uphold in this sanctuary of knowledge."

She glared at each of them causing Harry's rather obvious wince. Vaguely he wondered if the woman was subjected to the same glare by her mother when she was younger. 

"So I'll assume, and rightly so I imagine, that you came here and somehow disturbed them causing the minor fight that would have escalated had I not come when I did." she pointedly glared at the wand Lockhart clutched in his hands. 

"What?! I did no-"

"Twenty points from Gryffindor for starting a fight in the library." she said to Lockhart. "Now go, and return only when you have real interest for the books this place has to offer bright minds."

He left in a huff, his robes fluttering behind him dramatically, not even looking back at them. Harry wondered if he took lessons from Snape or something. 

He flinched when Madam Pince turned to him, "Fifty points from Gryffindor for irresponsibility over borrowed Hogwarts property." Harry sighed resignedly, having expected nothing less from the strict woman. Although he would admit feeling disappointed that she won't be even slightly lenient towards him after what she said about he and Tom. 

"Madam, the coffee could easily be siphoned off the page and the wrinkle fixed with a restoration spell." Tom offered, the cadence of his voice taking the tiniest hint of a plea. "Don't take that many points off of Gryffindor."

She stared at him then, her stern posture unchanging. "Even so, Mr Riddle, the damage has been done and he must be punished for it. I gave the book to him, thus the automatic responsibility to maintain its wellbeing also falls to him."

Tom didn't look happy but nodded all the same. 

Madam Pince turned away then, Harry assumed to return to her desk. "And twenty five points from Slytherin for bringing drinks into the library."

She turned back to glare at Tom, "And no more coffee in the library Mr Riddle. Or else."

They both sighed, went to fix the book and salvaging Harry's essay. It wasn't too bad. His essay just smelled slightly like coffee.

"I still don't get my coffee though." he heard Tom mutter.

Suffice to say the devoid of coffee tome found itself attached to the Slytherin's face with a resounding **thwack**! 

Madam Pince returned then, and saw that. With an indignant squawk, she docked twenty more points from Gryffindor and gave Harry a rather lengthy lecture. Tom was grinning like the smug bastard he was at Harry from behind the incensed librarian. 

At the end of it all, Harry was assigned detention with Filch for two days and a _two month_ ban from the restricted section. 

Harry was not happy. 

Later that night, he went to Fred and George. 

"Do you guys still have one of those Canary Cream Pies?"

When they nodded, a malicious smirk spread across his face. It finally dawned on some of them, those who were paying attention to Harry's conversation, why Riddle was friends with the Gryffindor. He was just as devious as Tom, but only when provoked. The two were probably cut out of the same cloth, but tailored differently. 

Most of them shuddered at this and the image of painful looking boils ridden Lockhart as he trudged his way to the hospital wing. They made a mental note to never mess with said Gryffindor as they carefully averted their eyes from the scene unfolding before them, wanting nothing to do with it. 

Meanwhile, Harry who was oblivious to most of his housemates thoughts, was mentally cackling at his plan to feed his Garnett eyed friend the pie. He happily paid the three Galleons he owed to them. 

He couldn't wait for Lunch tomorrow!

(It was glorious. Tom was cute as a canary. Even if he pecked overly much.

Then Harry woke up as a cat. 

The whole castle was awarded with seeing the Slytherin Prince struck down by a spitting mad, green eyed, black cat. 

They got two weeks detention for that. 

Harry blamed Tom's coffee.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What was I thinking right? XD
> 
> Point out my spelling mistakes, please! I'm writing thos on my phone. My laptop died but I just couldn't let that stop me.
> 
> Lol. 
> 
> Comments are love!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> More things happen but sometimes, although bad, it's kind of good too. 
> 
> *Laughs*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heeeeyyyy guyysss.....
> 
> So, so, so super sorry about this. My school had a sudden unscheduled exams, yes, _exams_ not tests. The kind that affects your GPA kinda deal. Ugh. Hate. I did well, no worries but it did distract me from writing so that was shit.
> 
> It was so hard for me to write this because, normally, I'm the kind of person who writes long things. Essays for English class always end up being 8 pages long, yes. Pages. Handwritten by the way. So. Yeah. 
> 
> I had to limit myself so badly here. My past English tutors always, always say that's my problem. I write too long, I'm not very good at writing short stories. I try though. 
> 
> Anyway. Hope you guys like it! I know I did! XD

3\. Hogwarts, Harry Third Year, Tom Fifth Year

Harry immediately pulled off his wet Quidditch robes with a disgusted grimace. He won't deny it, he loved the game, the seeking, the anticipation of looking for the Snitch and the teamwork the Gryffindor team had. It was amazing! What he could do without was the way his skin felt sticky with sweat and how he stank worse than the under arms of a troll. Ugh. 

He shed his trousers, grabbed his towel and immediately headed for the showers-

"Gryffindors, listen up!" yelled Oliver Wood as he entered the locker room. He clutched a piece of paper in his hand. He looked positively thrilled and there was an excited gleam in his eyes that stilled Harry's footsteps. He wondered what it was that caused the eagerness in the Scottish boy. 

"Well, guys, the ministry has finally done it." he began, his grin wide and, well... _excited._ Harry couldn't help but be curious about the news the older Gryffindor had. It was not everyday Oliver would look so happy at what the ministry does. He turned to look at Oliver. 

Oliver waited awhile, Harry was sure it was to wait to have everyone's attention. 

"Get on with it Wood, we all stink like a sack of Hippogryff dung!" George/Fred (Harry didn't know how to differentiate one from the other) chimed from somewhere to Harry's left. "and we want to stop smelling like that sometime soon!"

Harry heard someone snort, Angelina Johnson maybe, "Speak for youselves, Weasley, I still smell divine through all my sweat." 

Fred- George. Fr- _one_ of the twins scoffed, smiling sweetly at said girl, "As divine as the Rafflesia eh, Johnson?" winking roguishly for good measure too. 

Harry bit on the snort he felt climbing his throat when he saw said girl looking almost pleased to hear the comment. Said parasitic flower, found in southeast asian countries like Malaysia, Philippines, Thailand and Indonesia, was notorious for its **horrible** bad smell. Harry couldn't wait for when Angelina figured it out later. 

"Alrigh', alrigh' all of you. Settle down," he glared at the twins and everyone else until the voices died down. "So do you know who Bartemius Crouch Sr. is?" he asked them, turning expecting eyes on all of them but he didn't wait for an answer, "He's the Head of International Magical Cooperation Department. He and Ludo Bagman, Head of Magical Games and Sports had worked together for about seven years or so give or take a year for a particular proposal and the ministry, Merlin bless the moment they've got their brains opened wide, approved."

Oliver smiled wide. 

He turned the piece of paper in his hands and brought it high up so the all of them could see. Those who sat/stood closest, gasped loudly. Their whole countenance spoke of their excitement, so much, that they shook, and jumped and cheered and hugged whoever was in reach. 

Harry however, who was standing behind them all (and with his teammates' ridiculous height, curse their freakish tallness!) and rather far from where Oliver stood, was bewildered. 

......

Okay, not _bewildered_ per se, but confused enough. He remembered his dad being excited about something when he was home for the last holidays and he being ridiculously vague when Harry asked _why_ and a little too smirky for his liking. _Was_ this _what the old man looked so happy about?_ Harry thought it was entirely plausible, given who his father was. He still remembered his first year, when no one could seem to go anywhere without telling Harry his awesome dad, Head of Auror Department used to be the best Seeker Hogwarts had ever had. Not even the teachers. 

He was suddenly tackled by two red heads and lifted- 

"Fred! George!" he manfully bellowed (shrieked, actually but no way was he admitting that), smacking the twins on what shoulder he reached. He bit on the laugh that wanted to leave his throat when the red locks of the twin holding him tickled his stomach. He pulled on the exposed lightly freckled ears, an ear each, of both twins instead, "put me down this _instant!_ “ 

"Alright, alright, keep your-" began the twin holding him. Fred, maybe? He saw the number on this redhead's robes, 8; definitely Fred.

"-pretty head on. But just why, exactly-" continued the other twin, smirking at the flush that was surely beginning to darken his somewhat pale cheeks.

"-do you look so unenthusiastic in the face of this frankly-" Fred spun him around and, Harry indignantly squawked, tossed him to George.

"awesome news?" they finished together and promptly set Harry down, both with identical smirks. 

Harry hadn't seen the paper in Oliver's hand and neither did he hear what his teammates squealed about, lost as they were in the gamut of other happy, excited noises the others made. But he prided himself in being pretty good at guess work thanks to Tom.

"Inter-Schools Quidditch Tournament?" he guessed, looking at the twins expectantly. He also surreptitiously (not really) wrapped the towel around his waist tightly and crossed his arms over his chest, feeling more than slightly self-conscious at his state of undress. 

"Yep!" chorused the beaming twins in a synchronicity that was really, somewhat creepy but, somehow, acceptable.

Just as they were about to say something more, Oliver cleared his throat, grabbing everyone's attention once again. 

"With that said, each school's houses will compete against the other school's. The final two will battle in a final round in the second week of the summer holidays." 

Everyone murmurred excitedly amongst themselves. They would be going against other school's teams? If they win, they would be the talk of the whole Magical Community!

"So," Oliver loudly exclaimed, his grin stretched too wide and rather. Well... _terrifying_. It made Harry shiver, the sight was foreboding; as if somethi-

"We'll have to up our training schedule and be a little creative! We'll practice every evening, 4.00 to 6.00pm, and once a weekend, 9.00am to 12.00pm." he cheerily said, extending his pointer finger, he pointed it upwards and twirled it. "I've also got permission from Professor McGonnagall _and_ Headmaster Dumbledore to do so."

With that, he spun on his heels and walked out the door, leaving behind gaping, incredulous and horrified Gryffindor Quidditch players. 

"See you guys tomorrow evening!" they heard him call back to them, and then he goes off, whistiling a happy tune that goes quiter the further he gets from the locker room.

Harry picked up his jaw from the ground and revised the words that left the Scot's mouth again. 

Someone huffed out a breath violently, Katie Bell, and she punched the locker she stood in front of. 

**_"Bloody fucking hell"_ **

Everyone agreed with the sentiment. 

*****

 

So it was weeks later after countless _hours_ of training, that Mr Bagman and Mr Crouch informed who'd go against who and _where_ to the Headmaster's of each school. Everyone looked at the white haired Headmaster with barely restrained anticipation. 

"And so, it has been announced earlier today by Misters Crouch and Bagman that the Inter-Schools Quidditch Tournament matches will take place as follows." Dumbledore waved his wand, and then the candles above them were extinguished, plunging all of them into darkness. He pointed his wand upwards and sparks of light erupted from the tip. They flew upwards and did a whole jumble of movements and manoeuvres until they were all looking at a diagram of lines and names denoting who against who. 

"As you can see," said the headmaster as he again used his wand to zoom in on the top left corner of the diagram, "Gryffindor is the first match this 17th March, this coming weekend, against Dortoir Artisan, Artists House, in the plains of-"

What the headmaster said completely flew over his head; he couldn't even pretend to know where that was let alone repeat what he said. Harry just assumed that it was some uninhabitable muggle part of land that they'd borrow and throw a great number of spells to make the muggles not see the viewing stands, crowds of Magicals and the teams flying on brooms and throwing around balls and, as per usual, getting bludgeoned (or nearly bludgeoned) by a Bludger. 

"-and so all those interested in going to see the match may owl your parents or guardians for their written consent, and hand the consent letter to your respective heads of House two weeks before the actual date of any match you wish to go. Of course, if you'd rather go with your parents, you may but a letter to inform us of this is still required. "

Oh. Harry silently gasped. 

Tom could come see him play.

"-families of the Quidditch Team playing that day will be given a portkey to the location of the ga-" 

Harry tuned out the aging wizard's voice and took out the black leatherbound book he carried around everywhere. Muttering the set passphrase, _Slytherin at heart_ , and immediately flipped to the most recent page. Ignoring their last discussion about the famous Alchemist Nicolas Flammel's Philosopher's Stone, he took the quill he had magicked to the book, and immediately wrote: _**You'll be there right?**_

He was disappointed when he received no reply after five minutes but resignedly accepted that Tom was not likely to open their book while at the Slytherin table when Dumbledore was talking up front. It would surely break some sort of Slytherin code of conduct or whatever. Harry rolled his eyes at this thought and closed the book, quill attached, and put it back in his robe pocket. 

Later, just as he'd put his head on the pillow, he heard the book vibrate (much like the phones on silent profile vibrating on a solid surface, Harry amusedly noted) in his end table. Perplexed, as he had totally forgotten the message to Tom earlier, he immediately grabbed the book out and opened to last used page.

 _Of course I'll be there._ Read Tom's beautiful flowing script. _You'd fall off the broom if I don't._

Harry snorted and _finite_ the sticking charm to the quill. 

_In your dreams, Riddle._

After exchanging a few more barbs with the older wizard, Harry bid his best friend a goodnight and sappy wishes of peaceful dreams just to annoy him, he closed the book and kept it back in his end table. Suffice to say he fell asleep with a smile on his face. 

(He won't admit it come morning, but hey, that was between him and the closed crimson curtains of his four poster bed)

*****

Harry was disappointed. _Sorely_ disappointed. Why, you ask? Well, the reason for said emotion was sitting right in front of him looking as affected as he could ever look in a semi-public setting-they were at their somewhat hidden by bookcases table in the library, at school with Harry. 

"I'm really sorry, Harry. Professor Vestra wouldn't accept a no." Tom agitatedly told him as he irritatedly mussed his usually impeccable hair. "The tutoring was even sanctioned by Dumbledore and apparently as the top student in class, it is " _my responsibility_ " to help my yearmates who are failing to achieve the desired target for Arithmancy." he sneered at the word responsibility, spitting it out as if it was some rotten thing in his mouth. 

He slumped in his seat, head thrown back as he snarled unintelligibly, sounding distinctly unhappy to be volunteered into something without _actually volunteering_. 

"So..." Harry trailed off, looking at Tom's uncharacteristically slumped figure.

"So, I won't be able to come to your game tomorrow." Tom continued apologetically, looking at Harry with such regretful eyes.

"Oh." was Harry's eloquent reply. He snapped out of his "someone-killed-my-Kneazle" mien and forced a smile on his face, tapping the end of his quill on the parchment he was writing his Magical History essay on. "Well, it's alright-" it kind of wasn't but what could he do? "-you could always come to the next one!" he cheerily quipped, congratulating himself for managing to make it sound not forced. 

Tom smirked at him, "You're that confident Gryffindor will win, huh?" 

Harry smirked right back, not missing a beat, and glad for the chance to dissipate the sad mood enveloping them. "Of course."

They went back to working on their respective homeworks in silence.

*****

Gryffindor won their first match, and so did Slytherin house against one of Durmstrang's house teams. Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff didn't manage to defeat their opponents but they still qualified for the next round, which is great! Harry couldn't help but gloat that Gryffindor won by 175 points, despite them losing the snitch to Viktor Krum. 

Tom scoffed (he doesn't snort in public company, the prat, Harry rolled his eyes) and then smirked at Harry, "You're just bitter Krum caught it, Potter." 

Everyone at the table-Fred, George, Sarah, Lyra, Blaise and Malfoy to name a few, minutely gasped and held their breaths. Everyone in the school had collectively agreed to minimize any mention of said achievement, or rather the lack of it, around Harry Potter's vicinity. Everyone knows Harry as _the_ best Seeker Hogwarts has had in a century. That had to give him _some_ pride being acknowledged with a reputation like that. 

So everyone; students, professors, ghosts, portraits, even _Malfoy_ , took up arms to make sure Harry hears no slight to his Seeking skills. It had lasted until yesterday. Two weeks. Oh dear. 

Everyone (read: not Slytherin, being Lyra, Fred and George) visibly gulped and subtly (not quite) shifted their gaze from the two best friends; finding themselves quite suddenly intensely interested in the wondrous ingenuity of Hogwarts table surfaces, walls and the lighting above them in the library. 

"Meh, he's an up and rising Quidditch star!" Harry easily shrugged it off with a smile. Then he smirked, " 'sides, who else gets to say they got to play with Krum and was _this_ -" he held up a hand with his index finger and thumb close together but not touching for emphasis, " _close_ to catching the snitch?" 

He then threw himself back in his chair, arms spread out, head thrown back, smile wide like he had won something, and cheeks flushed with his evident excitement. 

"Bloody hell, I was neck to neck with him chasing that snitch! Krum! Sixteen year old up and rising, _**Bulgarian Quidditch team candidate**_ , against me! _Thirteen_ and _tiny_ compared to him and _I_ just about, almost nearly, got the snitch before _he_ did!"

He threw his arms up in the air.

"Hah!" he exclaimed, then slapped his lap like some classic Ye Olde West cowboy. Cockily, he smirked at them all.

"Unbeatable? I think _not!_ "

 

"I'll have him beat in no time!" then he dissolved into cackling laughter, elated and gleeful all in one. "Just eight more matches to go!"

So jubilant was he in his rapture that he completely missed the four frosty, unimpressed, furious glares directed at him. 

Tom snorted, (yes, sometimes he does it in public too but only when the situation calls for it), "So that's why you're not brooding over the lost snitch." 

Harry stopped laughing and scowled at Tom, "I do not _brood_!“

Tom looked at him with raised eyebrows, mocking at Harry like Tom was some sort of vaudeville villain, "Well tell that to the time I've wasted when others inevitably pull me in to console-"

A house elf suddenly pops in and lands right next to Tom, holding out a cup of (oh dear, what could it be?) coffee. Of course. Harry rolled his eyes at Tom.

Tom takes the cup from Winzy, giving her a small smile and a thank you. It made the little elf squeak and stutter out a "you're welcome" before popping back to the kitchens. Harry didn't blame her, he would flee as fast as he could from that kind of smile too. Tom sniffed at his coffee, as if taking in the aroma before he takes a sip from it. 

"-Where was I, ah, yes; they inevitably call me to console you back into functional shape-"

As suddenly as Winzy popped in with said beverage, Harry just as suddenly found the contents of the drink, _ice cold, Merlin!_ on his lap. The frigid liquid seeping into the fabric of his trousers, wetting even his pants and making it uncomfortable for his manhood.

"What the bloody fu-" he almost bellowed as je jumped up and out of his seat, glaring murderously at the perpetrator.

A blank faced Sarah stared right back at him, but hey, Harry's been friends with her about almost as long as he had been friends with Tom. He could see the cold anger hidden in her usually cheerful brown eyes. She slipped back her wand she had quietly used to _locomotor_ Tom's coffee cup from his hand and into his lap inside her wrist holster underneath her school robe sleeve. 

She tucked part of her fringe behind her ear amd dusted off imaginary dust on her clothes, looking as cool as you please. Like she did nothing.

"What the hell was tha-" Harry began but stopped when she turned to face Fred and George, a wide and unsettling smile stretched her lips.

"Boys?" she prompted. "Something just as cold, please?"

"Certainly, my lady. One for each of us, I presume?" Goes Fred (Harry only knows because there are books with his name on it in front of it, at least he thinks it's right) to which Sarah gave a positive hum. As he rummaged in his bag for something, George smiled at Sarah and held out his hand. 

"Excluding mine and Fred's, that'll be sixteen galleons."

Sarah rolled his eyes at them, "You guys should charge more for your products. They're genius!" and dug in her bag for her pouch of money and paid them. 

"Ah!" interjected Fred, he straightened as he looked at Sarah. "Here you are, my lady, and many thanks for the kind praise you offered us." and gave four shrunken _somethings_ to Sarah, who passed them to Blaise, Lyra and Malfoy. 

All of them looked at Harry with a kind of anticipatory malice as they resized it to normal size. Ice traveled up his spine, raising goosebumps all over his arm and behind his neck. There goes his trouble sense.

"Uh... Tom?" he stuttered out, quickly going behind Tom's chair to take cover just in case. He eyed the object as Sarah threw the curious, white, square looking thing in her hand up and caught it again and again. Harry glanced at her face, she smirked. Harry gulped. 

Harry tapped on Tom's shoulders, said brunette turned around and raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

Tom opened his mouth-

"What's going on, Harrykins, is that the lot of us here at furious-" George (maybe) began, smirking something bad. He seemed to roll the square, white thing around in between his hands as if shaping it into a sphere of some sort. Harry didn't see this but others mimicked him, Malfoy looking especially happy to do his. 

"-and this," he held up the, yes, now spherical thing."This is our new pranking product, perfect for food fights of any kind."

"The best part, Harrykins, is that we don't use any sort of food." Fred continued, also clutching at his sphere, "This thing here, duplicates what food/drink substance is _already on the body_."

If Harry hadn't already caught that he should bloody well _run_ , though he had absolutely no clue _why_ , well he was definitely clued in then. He hurriedly made a dash for better cover behind some of the bookshelves. No way they dared to aim at him while he was near books. Hah! Madam Pince would kill them.

SPLAT!

Went the side of his face and immediately, he was drenched in iced coffee. 

"Oh, we forgot to mention, Harrykins." George chimed rather loudly from the table. 

"These things work like the muggle homing missiles." 

_Merlin!_ Thought Harry in a panic. 

Suffice to say he was throughly _bathed_ in coffee roughly ten minutes later. 

As further punishment, he had his wand taken away and none (Tom) at the table were allowed to dry him. Since they didn't want to ruin any of Hogwarts furniture, Malfoy had most helpfully, if he could say so himself which he definitely did, transfigured a cushion of sorts from a quill he didn't need anymore and made it large enough for Harry to comfortably sit and laid it beside Tom's chair. Close enough for Harry to lean his head against Tom's thigh if he so wished. 

At Harry's terribly ruffled, indignant look everyone but Tom burst out laughing. Tom secretly noted that Harry distinctly looked like a sullen wet cat- kitten, actually, if Tom recalled correctly. 

Harry levelled a glare at Tom's face then, unrealizing that he was further cementing Tom's thought that his Harry looked like an angry, miserable looking, terribly soaked in coffee kitten. "This is your fault." he growled. A part of his fringe fell into his eyes, and he irritatedly blew it away. 

He grew more irritated when Tom simply smiled. Said brunette coolly looked up at his best friend, "I wasn't the one who insensitively stampeded on all of his friends' hard work to care for your oh so prickly feelings." and then that smile grew wider and more terribly friendlier. 

Tom likened Harry at the time to a kitten with raised hackles, hissing and itching to bat (with claws) at his master's feet, or anywhere really, to cause some blood to be spilled. To put it simply, Tom thinks that Harry looked _adorable_ despote being as amgry as he was. Not that he'd mention this aloud, of course. He valued his head where it is, thanks. 

So in a proactive method to nip the surely explosive argument (could be taken literally) in the bud, Tom pushed out his chair, while still seated, and pulled Harry into his lap. All this was done after Tom casted a waterproof charm on his clothes and the furniture's surface of course. It _would_ seem simpler to just dry Harry with the drying charm but Tom knew it was better to just let things play out the way Sarah wants them to. Letting the battle and the war end there and then, so to speak, instead of a more drawn out and entirely exhausting war. 

Harry froze at his current seating arrangement, becoming almost entirely _too_ still.

"Tom," Harry began, voice quiet and adopting and almost deathly calm quality to his tone, "What the bloody _hell_ are you doing?" 

Tom looked at Harry as if he was an idiot, "Offering you better seating arrangements of course." he gestured to the cushion on the floor, "Unless you prefer the floor..." he trailed off, aiming Harry a look as if daring him to challenge that Tom's lap is a far better accommodation compared to the cushion. 

It would be simpler to say, yes, Tom. Your lap is much, much, much more comfortable than the pillow Malfoy transfigured but simple meant easy meant _boring_ and Harry and Tom _lived_ to challenge the other.

Harry hummed, and pretended to think about it. Then purposely slowly and pointedly, looked at Tom then the cushion, then back at Tom and then again at the object. Like he was seriously considering the options when it was, in all actuality, a non-option.

Just when Tom began to look ticked that he was taking so long to decide, Harry wriggled around to get comfortable, which was for some reason prematurely ended before he could find one, by Tom's hand almost harshly gripping at his waist. Going along with what he had, Harry made do with how he was positioned, and rested his head on Tom's shoulder. No, he did not snuggle into Tom's neck what are you talking about? (He so did, but again, that was between him and Tom and Tom was not likely to blurt anything to anyone else)

Tom sighed, slid down a little to accommodate both himself and Harry so they could both be comfortable. Then, he muttered lowly, almost straight into Harry's ears, with his nose nore or less buried into Harry's hair "at least you smell like coffee _and_ as good as coffee."

Well. 

Harry will deny the heat that graced his face to his dying day. He will be buried with this fact. Actually. It never happened. If nothing happened there is nothing to hide. There. Nothing happened. 

Everyone at the table suddenly fake wretched, each exclaiming disgust and dying of drowning in extreme sugary sweetness from their act. Harry was in danger of dying of exploding head from too much blood redirected to the face and neck.

 _"Silencio."_ Tom effortlessly spelled and stowed away his wand. He cleared his throat, "Right. Now, where was I in my revision for Transfiguration?"

Yeah, Harry was very comfortable where he was. Even if he was drenched in Tom's stupid fucking coffee.

(It wasn't cold anymore either but Harry guessed that was just his bias towards Tom being warm and comfy and everything. Harry stretched and nuzzled into Tom's neck, subtly breathing in Tom's wonderful scent of sandalwood, coffee, parchment and something uniquely _Tom_.

 

Tom on the other hand, was valiantly holding back the urge to run his fingers through Harry's soft looking tresses. It was a fight he seemed to be losing. What with Harry all but purring in his lap like a cat readying for a nap. 

Yes, Harry was contented. Well, except for the coffee but that was a problem for later. 

They completely ignored the teasing wretching and vomitting act their friends played at the table.

Madam Pince looked completely pinched when she did her patrols but she ignored them; Tom looked relieved she didn't smell the coffee. He didn't want more Slytherin house points to be deducted on his part. 

Harry supposed it wasn't _too_ bad, but still, he _was_ wearing coffee like it was a new hot fashion trend. 

Harry has begun associating coffee with possible bad situations but could you blame him?)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yaayyy!!!
> 
> Hopefully the next one doesn't take too long. Sorry bout this guys. I am practicing writing short. Remember that.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Coffee, Toddlers, Dates and.... Gasp! A scheme against the daughter of the Head of Department for Magical Law Enforcement?!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this one is a kid fic. Clearly, I have strayed very far from canon. Obviously it's rife with OOCness but hey, the characters live completely different lives.
> 
> Harry grew up with parents, Tom only had one asshole parent (the dad, he had left the mom while she was preggers with Baby Tommy) and both generally had a happy and satisfying childhood. I think I can be excused. 
> 
> I loved writing this chapter, and it wasn't hard since I have a nephew about the same age as the toddler character in this chapter.
> 
> I hope you guys like it!
> 
> On with the chapter!

4\. Harry Fourth Year, Tom Sixth Year.

It was blissfully warm where he was bundled under his blankets and covers. He was very reluctant to leave the pleasant warmth, something he happily realized he didn't have to do. It was the winter holidays, he was at home, no annoying friends could come and disturb his pea-

"Harry, get up! I have a date in three hours and you need to help me get ready." 

Harry groaned miserably, he had spoken too soon! He clutched onto his blanket tighter and intended to ignore his friend but, of course, Sarah was not one to be ignored. 

She pulled at one edge of the blanket, tugging at it harshly enough that his body moved along with the pulling motion. "Come ooooon!" she whined. 

Harry whined right back at her, "Why meeeeeee?" he asked, voice still raspy with sleep. He jolted his body in the opposite direction of Sarah's pull, ripping the blanket away from her grasp. She huffed, then did something even worse. 

She sat on his legs. 

"Because you promiiiiiiised." she's not fat or anything, don't get Harry wrong. It's just that any sort of weight, significant or otherwise, on prone limbs resting upon solid objects get very uncomfortable very quick. 

Harry groaned, "I plead momentary insanity?" he peeked out of his blanket to glance at his friend.

She looked at him, longer than what was comfortable, and then all of a sudden, her scotch brown eyes watered. She sniffed, "Fine, Harry, fine. Go back to your stupid precious sleep." then she got up (mercy for his legs!) and turned to walk out of the room.

Harry sighed, bollocks.

"Give me fifteen minutes to get ready."

She spun on her heels, mouth splitted by a wide smile. "Yay!!" She jumped about in place for a while, even going as far as doing a little victory jig. 

Harry rolled his eyes at her, "No need to look so damn excited about it." 

She rolled her eyes back at him. "Of course I need to, you're nigh on impossible to wake on a winter morning like this." she walked back to bed to pull him very reluctantly out of bed and his nest of warmness. She then shooed him into his own bathroom, in his room, in his parents' home. 

The bloody cheek. 

So about twenty minutes later, he was showered, dressed and already at the table eating his breakfast listening to his mom chat with Sarah amicably. Sometimes he intervened, but so what? Embarrassing stories don't need to leave this house by Sarah's ears. 

His dad then walked in, "Honey, have you seen where I put my cuff links? The Potter ones?" he ruffled Harry's hair when he got close enough. "Going somewhere, Harry?" he asked when he saw how nicely dressed his son was. Not at all looking like he was planning to only stay at home snuggled under blanket upon blanket upon cover as he usually did.

It was Sarah who answered his father, "Harry promised to act as wingman with Lyra for my date today, sir. Think of it like a double date. "

The elder male raised an eyebrow, "Oh?" he looked quizically at Harry, opening his mouth as if to say something but didn't, then he turned back to Sarah, "Cody let you go on a date?" he looked amused as he asked her this.

Sarah rolled her eyes, "My big brother doesn't know. He'd probably drop everything he's doing in the US to hover or something."

Harry snorted, hover was an understatement. The guy was ridiculously protective of his baby sister. 

"Oh, hello Mary! Did you sleep fine today?" his mom cooed when Mary walked in the dining room/kitchen.

Not that he didn't understand. He left his chair to pick up his little sister, his little Marigold. She giggled happily as she clung to his neck, "Hello my little flower! How are you today?"

"Hawwy! Hawwy look handsome today!"

Everyone at the table laughed, delighted by the three year old's honesty and intelligence. 

Harry mock gasped, "I do?" he rested her on his hips, arm securely under her baby blue, starry trousers clad bottom and looked down at himself. Pretending to be surprised. "Well, so my lady says, it must be true." he sat her on the table (the unoccupied part), he took a step back and bowed to her. "Thank you for the compliment, my lady." he looked up and grinned when she giggled again. He didn't notice, but his father had just left the room having found out where the cufflinks were from his ever aware wife. 

Mary pulled at a lock of his hair that she could reach, "Silly Hawwy." she looked around, then stopped when she saw Sarah. "Sawwah!" 

Harry stepped away when said girl laughed and approached the toddler, tucked back stray red brown hair behind little ears before picking her up. "That little lisp of yours has to go quick, Mary. I'm not a paddy field." she jokingly adds. 

"Paddy field?" his mom asked from the stove, preparing pancakes for Mary no doubt. 

Harry watched as Sarah tickled underneath Mary's jaw, both of them grinning when the toddler squirmed and laughed cutely. "Yeah, my family and I went to Indonesia and Malaysia for two weeks last summer. Visited lots of places, including some villages with agriculture as their main economic gain." she passed Mary back to Harry when she started wriggling in her hold and making grabby hands for her brother.

Harry nearly melted from the cuteness that was his little sister. "Paddy fields are called _sawah padi_ there." she emphasized a little harder on the _sawah_ part. The way she said it, all the "A's" in the words were like the "A" for the "Sar-" part of "sardonic".

Harry snorted, "So my sister's practically been calling you paddy?" 

"Worse," she replied, "I'm just the field they use." she said that in such a despairing tone that everyone cracked up at it. Sarah turned to Mary, who was still in Harry's hold, taking her delicate little hands carefully in both her own larger ones, "Oh little lady, you don't know what the name you give me has subjected me to!" then she did a dramatic little swoon as if she was having a turn of the fits like those characters in classical books. 

Harry thought it was ridiculous but it was definitely worth it for the burst of bright laughter from the pretty lady in his arms. 

His mom walked back to the table with Mary's plate of animal shaped, chocolate chips, and strawberry slices pancakes. Seeing that, Mary made grabby hands for the plate. Harry passed Mary to his mother. 

"Is my little Marigold hungry?" she cooed, laughing when the three year old whined out a "Yes, mama!" and tried reaching for the cutlery herself. Promptly she sat down with Mary in her lap so she could feed the toddler. She looked at Harry and Sarah after feeding her a bite, "So how long will this wingman duty last?"

Sarah smiled, "The whole day probab-"

"The whole day?" his dad interrupted, waking into the room again but this time dressed in his Head Auror uniform, black slacks and maroon long sleeved shirt, minus the robes.

"Harry," uh, oh, Harry thought. He sounded admonishing, "Did you forget that your mother and I have an event we need to attend at 2 o'clock later?" 

Oh shit. Harry had totally forgotten about that. 

"I... I may have?" he sheepishly answered, grinning just as sheepishly. It was not well received by anyone, unfortunately. If the unimpressed looks he received from both his parents and Sarah were any indication. Harry winced. 

"Harry." his mother scolded, a small frown on her face, softened only when feeding more pancake bites to Mary, "That is very irresponsible of you. You know we need you to babysit Mary." his dad nodded along to what his mother said, looking sternly at him over the rim of his square glasses. 

Sarah sighed, "It's alright Mrs Potter, I technically did force him to say yes anyway." 

His dad looked at her with a small frown, "But now it's unfair for you too. Even if you cajoled him into saying yes, he still did promise to go."

Well, didn't that make him feel rather guiltier? 

"Do you know the boy you're going on this date with?" 

Sarah shrugged, "I know him, but... I don't know him to enough to trust him. Considering what happened last time, I don't really want to risk anything." she was referring to the time she and her date got abducted while on a date during third year. Such is the problem when one's father is the Head of Department of Law Enforcement, known for his ruthlessness in carrying out the law, and has many enemies because of it. Or at least, so Sarah says.

"And your other friends can't go?" his mum asked, cutting up another part of the elephant's ear for Mary.

Harry and Sarah both shook their heads, "The twins aren't allowed out because of their last prank during school term." Sarah said. 

"Blaise and Malfoy have a pureblood thing they have to go to. Something about a presenting or whatever." Harry continued. 

"Tom?" his dad asked.

Both Harry and Sarah rolled their eyes, "Tom would make the guy uncomfortable." 

"Why?" he asked again, looking incredulously at the both of them. 

"Mr Potter, it's common knowledge in school that Tom Riddle Jr. has the innate ability to make any male feel inadequate, if he so wishes." Sarah said it like it was common knowledge, and really, it was. 

"I want company so I have backup in case of danger, I don't want to _scare_ my date!" 

His dad looked at the both of them alternately, as if contemplating their sanity. Then he sighed, "There's no helping it I guess." He turned to Harry, "Go message Tom, see if he would mind babysitting Mary. He'll be paid of course, 10 Galleons an hour." Harry nodded, glad for a solution and immediately got up to get to his room. 

He took out the diary from under his pillow and wrote: _Tom, I need help._ He then took out his wand and quickly tapped three times on the words he wrote, imagining himself saying it. The words burned red for a second or two, before dying down to to a faded red. He knew on Tom's end, the diary would play out his voice instead of just displaying the message. Like an audio message, except, it's automatically played. Harry hoped Tom was in the vicinity of the dia-

The book vibrated in his hand, _What is it? What's wrong?_

 _Can we Floo call?_ Harry asked. 

It took a few minutes, the reply came back positive. So off Harry went to the Floo Fireplace, threw in the Floo Powder and with a precise 'Tom Riddle Jr.', he was speaking to Tom and explaining the situation. 

Tom was reluctant to agree, but hey, Harry has awesome persuasion skills, and this _is_ his best friend he was talking to. (The offer for pay was a good bargaining chip too) 

He rolled his eyes at Harry, "I'll be there at one fifty."

Harry cheered very loudly at that, "Thank you, thank you, thank you. I looove youuu Tooom!" 

Tom scoffed, "Says the brat going on a date and leaving his best friend with his little sister."

Harry laughed, "Not a date, Tom. Bodyguard duty." 

He rolled his eyes again, "Whatever, Potter. Now go, before I change my mind."  
Harry smiled wide at Tom, then the smile disappeared and he looked up at the older wizard and earnestly, most sincerely said, "Seriously Tom, thanks." he smiled again. "Bye!" 

Pulling his head out of the fireplace, Harry quickly got up and magically removed any soot that got into his hair.

He hurriedly went to tell his father of Tom's answer. Harry noted that Mary and his mom were no longer at the table, having long since been done with eating, he guessed. 

"Well, that's good. You can go." 

Sarah looked happy about this, and Harry was smiling back. He was really-

"And your punishment for this mishap, Harry, is that Tom's pay is coming out of each of your monthly allowance. So you'll have ten galleons less than normal."

Which would leave him with thirty galleons each month, okay. That was fair.

"I don't want any repeat performances of this irresponsibility. It might look like nothing now, but it could be very bad for you if someone with bad intentions takes advantage of you carelesly making promises. Is that understood?" 

Harry nodded, expression regretful and contrite. "Yes, dad." 

"Good," he said, "Now say sorry to Sarah."

He did as he was told, sincerely of course. It was easilly waved off by Sarah. 

They both turned to his dad. 

Satisfied, he nodded to them both. "Alright," he said, "you can go."

Harry smiled at his dad and went to hug him. "Thanks dad." he said, "See you later." 

After saying goodbye to both his mother and his little sister, (she had been bathed and dressed in a sunflower yellow dress) he and Sarah went to the agreed rendezvous, the Leaky Cauldron. There, they met Lyra and Sarah's date. All Harry knew was that the boy was a Seventh Year Ravenclaw Prefect, and Chaser. 

"Hey Michael," Sarah warmly greeted. 

Michael smiled back at her, "Hello." 

Let the date begin, Harry mentally announced. 

 

******

Hours have passed since the Floo call, and now Tom was seeing the Potter parents leaving for the event they needed to be at.  
"So any medications she might need is in the medicine cupboard in the kitchen, I've labelled all of them, no worries." said Mrs Potter as she put on her outer robes, and slid on her gloves. "Emergency contact Flo. Addresses are stuck on the fireplace mantle, it's the-"

"It's the blue paper in red ink. Mary likes to have rice with carrots and chicken for lunch, dinner is free game and any snacks in between is up to her. She knows to ask when she wants the toilet." Tom smoothly interrupted and smiled at her reassuringly, "Nap time is at five, if she doesn't want to, it's best to play pretend sleep; watch out for nuts and shellfishes in any food I give her since she's allergic to them. She also has a slight asthma, so her asthma medication is a must too." 

He smiles wider at her lightly, pleasantly surprised face, "I know." He refrained from mentioning that he was used to it as time spent with Harry at the Potter house usually meant time spent with Mary as well. There was a fine line between actually knowing it all and sounding like a know-it-all. It was a line he refused to cross-unless with it's Harry as irritating him is _always_ fun, it was unbecoming and pretentious in his opinion. 

Mr Potter walked in then laughing amusedly, carrying Mary in his arms, "Well, sweetheart, Mary's definitely in good hands." he happily said to his wife. 

Said toddler looked happy to see him, and made grabbing motions to him. Tom complied, there was no saying no to the girl. Besides, it's not like he has siblings of his own to indulge in. "Tommy." she called gleefully.

This particular creature and another were the only two allowed to hideously butcher his name in such a way, so he lets it slide as he pulls her into his arms. She pats his cheeks with her chubby little hands, "Tommy, where's Hawwy?" 

He hums at her, "He's out helping Sarah," he tickles her side lightly, "He'll be back soon." 

"Okay." she says, before turning to her parents. "Are-" the lisp she has for all the "R" letters making it sound like she was saying "Au", "-you going now, daddy, mama?" 

Mrs Potter smiled and ran her fingers lovingly through her daughter's hair, "Yes, honey, so you'll he staying with Tom until we come back." she bowed a bit low to kiss her daughter's forehead, inciting a giggle from Mary, then she pulled back. "So you be good for Tom, okay?" 

She smiled brightly, "Okay!" 

"Good," she said, then it was Mr Potter saying goodbye to his daughter with a kiss to the back of her hand and soon they were both ready to leave. 

"Have a good evening, Mr Potter, Mrs Potter." he bid adieu to both with a nod each.

Mr Potter smiled a little wryly at him, "There's just no convincing you to call us James and Lily is there?" 

Tom smiled, a little sheepish as this request was often repeated by the couple. "I'll try to remember, sir." 

Lily sighs heavily, "There he goes again, James. It's like he doesn't realize he's practically family." 

"Maybe Harry could get him to remember it someday, Lily." James confidently said, then winked conspiratorily at Tom, making Lily giggle rather uncharacteristically. Tom staunchly ignored the implications of his sentence, even if they give him a pleasant feeling.

"Well then, let's go Lily." he gestures for her to use the Floo first, "We don't want to be late." 

Lily nodded, agreeing then turned to Tom, "Thanks again for this, Tom," she sighed. "You wouldn't have been called if Harry hadn't forgotten his promise to us before he promised to help Sarah." 

Tom snorts lightly, typical Harry, he thought. "It's really alright Lily, I have finished my revisions and school assignments anyway. Plus," he adds, "Mother's not home, so. It's a little quiet in the house. The company's not bad either." he shrugged his shoulders, the movement slightly jostling the toddler in his arms, causing her to giggle a little. It helped prove his point of good company. Little Mary sat in his his arms quietly playing with the hem of his cashmere jumper or her dress.

Lily and James hummed in understanding, "Okay then," James said, "We'll be back around eight, maybe slightly earlier or later."

"Harry will be back sometime after six; maybe earlier, depends on the date. Plase, please stay for dinner okay?" Lily pleaded, her hand already clutching a handful of Floo Powder, "If there's anything I successfully taught that boy, it's cooking." 

Not waiting for a reply, or rather expecting no rejection to her request (order), she threw the powder into the fireplace. "Ministry Of Magic, Greecian Ballroom Entrance." was clearly enunciated, and with a quick "Bye" to Tom and Mary she stepped into the green fire. 

James turned to Tom and Mary, kissing her forehead, and then faced the still roaring fire. He said the same Floo Address and then he too disappeared into the flame. 

Tom sighed as he extinguished the fire. "Well Mary, it's just you and I now." the three year old looked up expectantly at him, her green but brown flecked eyes curiously glanced at him. "What do you want to do?"

She brightened up more then said, "Let's play Princess! You're my Prince!"

Tom sighed. 

As he listened to Mary's plot for this round's Princess, he idly wondered when he'd be able to deny Harry something. 

He was pretending to battle Kol -the Potter's pet Kneazle- who is apparently the dragon holding Princess Mary captive.  
_It seems not anytime soon, Riddle._

"Release the Princess, you foul beast!" he pretend bellowed to the "dragon". Much to the "terrified" Princess's amusement.

_Not anytime soon._

He then "slayed" the dragon. 

******

"That movie was great!" Sarah cheered as they exited the cinema, "I can't believe he survived that fall." she continued to gush as they enter the lobby of the cinema.  
She self-congratulated in her idea in having a date in the Muggle world, much more fun, she thought.

Michael laughed good naturedly at her antics, "The fall wasn't that high, I think, and the breathing device must've helped him some. Personally, I like the scene in the train." he snorted, Harry thought somewhat unattractively, "Can't believe he dressed up as a woman." 

Harry silently agreed, he wouldn't have the balls to do it. 

Lyra cleared her throat, distracting the main couple from their conversation. "So, where to next?" 

The two looked questioningly at each other, "Grab a bite for-" Sarah checked her watch, "-tea? It's a quarter past four." she suggested. "Unless you all wanna have a look at the shops up here too." She grinned, they had spent some money and time at the shops downstairs, only getting in the cinema a little after two. Harry grinned at the thought of the gift he picked up for Tom for Yuletide and his birthday. 

Michael nodded, "I am feeling a little hungry." 

Lyra agreed as well, "I saw a nice looking cafe before we entered the cineplex." 

Sarah nodded, "We'll go there then." she turned to Harry, "Harry?" 

Harry shrugged, grinned a little to show he's not being a prick, "I could eat." 

"Alright," Sarah quipped, "Let's go!"

 

******

 

"Tommy, can I have a snack?" Mary asked him, looking up from her colouring book. She scolded the ladybug when it moved again, softly telling it to "Don't move, please. I want to colour you."

"Sure." Tom answered, getting up from where he sat with the novel he had picked up from Harry's room. "What sort of snack do you want?" he gestured for her to follow him to the kitchen so she could choose.

Tom looked around, there were some apples, oranges and pears in the fruit bowl on the counter. Some rummaging in the refrigerator revealed that they have some selection of vegetables and other fruits, some types of fish Tom doesn't recognize, and cheese.

He turned to face the toddler, "What do you think you want to eat?" 

"What can I has?"

"Have. It's said, what can I have." Tom corrected. 

"Okay, what can I have?" she repeated. 

Tom explained, but excluded the fish. He had no idea how to deal with those. 

"Umm..." she intoned looking rather serious for a three year choosing what food to eat. "Can I have cheese and fruits?"

Tom smiled, that was simple and clean. He brought out said cheese, edam, and the fruits in the fridge, cherries, apricots and peaches. 

He considered the thickness of the cheese, and remembered that Mary loved shapes in her foods. He looked around in the drawers for those particular things and- yes. There they are. 

Tom turned to Mary, "What do you think of cheesy stars, dear Marigold?"

She smiled widely. 

 

******

"He seems like a decent bloke," Harry told Sarah as they both watched Lyra and Michael get a table from where they stood in line. "All gentlemanly and all that."

"He does seem like it," Sarah agreed, "But..." she bit her lips, looking agitated. "I feel like there's something not right about him." 

"Like what?" Harry asked, moving a step forward in line. 

"That's just it, I don't know." 

Harry frowned worriedly.

******

Snacks (Fruits and Cheesy Stars Shish Kebabs, not grilled though) consumed, Mary looked like she was almost ready for a nap. Tom figured if he just let her play around for a while longer, she'd tire herself out. 

He watched her play from the dinner table, taking a sip of the coffee he brewed on the French Press the Potters had. He and Mrs- Lily shared the same love for coffee. It's actually a very delicate proces-

"I want some!"

"Huh?" 

Mary pointed at the mug he was holding. Rather suddenly appearing out of nowhere. "That, I want what you're drinking too!" 

Tom shook his head, "I don't think that's a good idea, Mary. It's hot."

She stomped her little feet and generally acted like a brat she rarely ever was, "I want it!" 

More reasoning with her failed rather terribly as the toddler refused to hear anything other than yes. Tom sighed, and offered her his mug to drink.

She crossed her arms and shook her head, "No! I wants it in my cup!"

Tom refused. A sip, considering the size of her mouth, was fine. A whole cup? As far as Tom knew (limited though it may be) coffee wasn't good for three year olds. Especially not his kind of coffee. 

Then she started tearing up. She looked up at Tom with eyes so wide and looking so heartbroken and so, so, _betrayed_. It would be cute, if Tom didn't draw parallels to her older brother. It made him wonder if Harry taught his little sister the disarming stare.

He growled in irritation at the thought, "Merlin save me from this kind of Potter eyes!" (He had a strong suspicion that would never come true.)

After several failed attempts at convincing Mary coffee not being good for her-"Why is it good fow you? Why is it bad fow me?"she asked and Tom couldn't find a good answer to that-he gave up and gave in. 

He'd regret that. 

 

******

 

Harry sighed as he righted himself after stumbling out of the Floo Network. A quick check of his watch revealed it was fifteen minutes to five. He lightly rubbed at his forehead and groaned at the subtle buildup of an ache behind his eyes. He dreaded the thought that the not so nasty pain could easily evolve into the kind of torture that would make him bang his head open on the wall without the headache reliever. 

He sighed. He wanted to blame the coming pain on Sarah and her bloody violent, volcanic-like temper but he couldn't. He absolutely understood _why_ she blew up the way she did.

Michael was a bastard. 

No _really_ , he's a bastard. A Pureblood one at that. Why that mattered? It's a simple and clichè answer: money. You see, Pureblood Laws are a very fickle, sexist, bigotry riddled, bullshit a plenty, and archaic compilation of things. Harry dared to say that they are a mess and sometimes awful. Some of the laws, like Michael's case, pertained to illegitimate offsprings; child born to kept mistress(es), concubine(s), courtesan(s) and whore(s). 

(It was written exactly like that, Harry shits you not)

They don't get to inherit _anything_ , not even the Pureblood's name. The only reason Michael even has a family name is because he claimed his mother's maiden name at Gringotts. Otherwise, he'd just be Michael and not Michael Kaelin. 

Harry shook his head, he digressed far too much sometimes. Anyway, Michael's case was handled by one of Sarah's sisters, Laurell, one of the best magical lawyers to be found these days but they lost the case. No this is not a slight to Laurell, it highlighted her excellence actually, since she figured out that Michael brought fake evidence or something. It would have tipped the the balance in Michael's favour and take Cedric Diggory's (Amos's legitimate son) claim as Heir.

Long story short, Michael wanted revenge on the sister (and the dad since they were both on the case) by getting any sort of dirt he can get via Veritaserum on Sarah. One would think tiny little bad habbits wouldn't mean much to people and usually, it doesn't. Unless you were someone prominent like a well known lawyer, and the daughter of the best Head of DMLE The British Ministry had seen in decades. Sometimes things like that can destroy your good reputation. 

(Harry would tell you what it was but he'd been sworn to secrecy on pain of death by Laurell)

Pureblood politics, Harry shuddered, they were a _nightmare_.

He shook himself out of the reverie he was in, feeling grateful that Michael didn't manage to do anything to Sarah. Harry hoped he would enjoy his stay in lockup. (Said Ravenclaw was lucky Sarah had no brothers in the British Auror Department) 

He spelled the soot away and walked out of the Floo room, "I'm back!" he hollered out, "Tom? Mary? Where are you?" he walked down the hallway, "Guy-"

A loud and long, gurgling, laughing shriek was the only thing he heard before he was knocked clean off his feet. The air was forced out of his lungs by the crush of a three year old's full weight on his chest. 

He groaned and coughed, not quite able to life his body from the ground. Pain radiated from the back of his head, and his back. He moaned a little in pain.

The little anvil, on the other hand, was happily giggling on his chest. Tiny fists banging on his ribs lightly, and very much not helping him get the air he needed.

"Hawwy!!" she shrieked, "Hawwy's back!! Where's Sawwah, Hawwy? Is she coming back here? Why were you gone so long? What did you help her with? Did you have fun? I runned a lot today! Tommy maded me kibobs and it was-"

"Woah, woah, woah," Harry interjected, "Slow down, I can't answer all your questions that fast." She looked at him disappointedly, as if she had fully expected him to be able to answer them.

Harry held her around her waist, made sure he had a strong hold on her, before he gingerly sat up. He looked at her, assessing. She looked back, expectant. Her whole body jittering with some unknown energy and bouncing in place. It was very uncomfortable, and he lightly beared down on her shoulders to have her stay still because the lack of comfort could just as easily turn into a quick crippling pain for him if the toddler falls. 

Harry took a deep breath, and the toddler huffed impatiently. "Before I answer any of your questions little lady," he cupped her chubby face in his hands, "why are you so hyper? Like you're on...." Harry couldn't find the right word for it. It was on the tip of his tongue, it was.. 

"Sugar rush?" Tom wryly continued as he walked towards Harry. 

Harry raised a questioning eyebrow at the taller brunette, "Is she?" Harry thought Tom would know better than to feed his sister too much sugar.

Tom went to futilely pick up the excited toddler, which earned him bats to the arms, hand and slight graze to his cheek. Dear Merlin the girl is vicious. "No." he said, as he knelt beside them, "But..." he trailed off, looking carefully at Harry. He mentally calculated how much of his ego would be chipped off for this coming explanation.

Harry raised the other eyebrow, "But...?"

Tom sighed. "She asked for coffee." 

While for most people this would explain nothing, for Tom it explained many things. First, the elder wizard was almost a pushover when it came to Mary! Almost anything she wanted (within reason) was given. Second, Mary is an impressionable child, and therefore was more likely to ask for something if someone in the room (or if she saw it beforehand) was having it. Which meant, Tom drank coffee with Mary in sight. 

But... Mum had given Mary sips of coffee before, why was she so- Harry smacked his forehead lightly. 

He rolled his eyes very obviously at Tom. 

"You gave her a whole sippy cup's worth of coffee didn't you?"

Tom glared at Harry, then crossed his arms, "You try denying her when she blasts you with The Eyes."

"Yes, well you could have hewed and hemmed at it until she-" Harry paused, quirked his eyebrows at the Slytherin, "Did you just capitalize The Eyes?" Don't bother doubting whether this question was asked with saturated amounts of amusement, it was.

Tom quirkerd right back, "Did you just recognize her expression with which I relate The Eyes to?"

Harry shrugged, "I _am_ her brother, Tom."

Tom rolled his eyes, "Not important at the moment, Harry."

Harry hummed, squeezed Mary's hand lightly in warming when she tried to pull away, _stay still_ , was what he meant.

What the three year old apparently understood though, was this: _Escape challenge, yay! I'll just wriggle and squirm uncontrollably until- YES, big brother you lose. I RUN NOW!_

"Mary, don't run in the hallway!" he tried but, of course, she was already a giggling toddler dust by the time the last word left his mouth. Great Merlin, she runs fast.

Harry rounded on Tom, "How much coffee beans were in the coffee you gave her?"

Tom winced, and he guiltily answered, "About as much as mine has."

Harry was taken aback, it was like Tom's sanity had been spent. 

"What?" Tom said defensively, "She asked for coffee that smelled and looked like mine!" 

Harry pinched the bridge of his nose, the headache definitely present now. "And you didn't think to just _transfigure_ the coffee into the same colour and smell as your coffee?"

It was infinitely satisfying to watch Tom smack his own forehead over his far too rare bouts of stupidity. Especially since this was something he would never do anywhere or with someone else.

Tom glanced at Harry from underneath his lashes, "Uh... It was a moment of insanity?"

CRASH! CLANG!

Both of them jumped at the sound of something falling and breaking. What the _hell_ was _that_? 

"Mary?!" Harry yelled, concerned and slightly terrified. "Are you alright?!"

It was silent far too long for either Harry's or Tom's liking, and they were dashing in the direction of the crashing sound when "I'm alright!" was answered before mad giggling started again. 

They both let loose a breath of relief but didn't slow down until they reached the living room. Said currently hyper little girl was bouncing up and down on the couch with a bright smile on her face. One of the end tables were turned over, the potted plant that used to be on it was in a thousand pieces close by. 

Harry stopped close by and fisted his hands, resting them on the his hips. He looked disapprovingly at the mischievous toddler he didn't quite recognize to be his sister. His sister was always so calm and quiet! He was definitely surprised by this display of almost manic energy.

The frown on his face was willing the girl to stop jumping up and down. It worked, she slowly stopped. Hands tucked close to the side, as if realizing she did something wrong, but the curious expression on her face clearly meant that she was unsure of why exactly her big brother seemed to be upset.

"Hawwy, Hawwy, why are you frowning?" Harry had to bite his cheeks to stop the upward twitch of his lips at her cute "R" to "Au" lisp. He kept up the stern facade.

He then proceeded to explain why all the running about and jumping around knocking things down was bad. Tom sometimes piqued up with his own two knuts of why it was bad as he repaired the potted plant's container with a quick _reparo_. A small sweep of his wand had the sand and plant; a nemesia, if Harry wasn't mistaken, back into the pot and the pot back on the uprighted end table.

The little girl just sat quietly and listened to them rather unnervingly still. (It was unnerving like that because Mary had been moving without stop, and now she's barely twitching!) Harry felt a gentle brush on his right side, Tom had sidled up next to him without Harry noticing. 

Both of them turned to Mary. She looked up at them innocently.

"So do you get why you shouldn't run around inside the house?" Tom asked. 

She nodded.

"Great!" Harry exclaimed, "So." he approached her, she jumped/slid off the back of the couch. 

"Um, Mary. Let's go nap time okay?" he carefully said and he took small steps toward her.

The little girl grinned toothily at them. (Rather literally, as only her two front teeth were visible) Then she took off into the direction of the unlocked backyard door, screaming and shrieking excitedly, her most boisterous laughter could be intermittently heard as well. 

Harry sighed.

Tom lightly punched Harry's shoulder, "Did you have to mention naptime?"

Harry punched back, "Did you have to give her a sippy cup full of coffee?"

"Touchè."

Harry rolled his eyes at him. 

They heard more laughter/shrieking from the toddler. 

"Well, come on." Harry pulled Tom in the direction of the side door, "We've got a toddler to tire out." 

Tom groaned. 

"Your fault." Harry said, "Oh, it's snowing."

Tom groaned again.

******

Half past seven saw to the arrival of the elder Potters with an almost loud _crack!_ at the house entrance. When their cheery greetings were unreturned, they were slightly on edge (remnants of paranoia from the days of Grindelwald) but they kept themselves in check. 

They walked further inside the house with the quietest steps they could manage. They entered the living room.

Lily positively squealed, but managed to cut it off just in time before she woke any of them up. "James," she whispered in his ear, "Go get the camera _now_ , quietly!" 

James rolled his eyes, " _Accio Lily's camera_ " he intoned, then as quick as it was quiet, the camera dropped itself into James's hand. He quietly gave her the object. Even he couldn't deny the sight before him was one that could melt the coldest of hearts. Both agreed to just let them sleep, not having the heart to do otherwise. Lily held up the camera.

With a small CLICK, a bright flash filled t'he room and the moment that was currently warming their hearts were forever captured in a simple photo. 

Lily squealed quietly again as she looked at the developed photo. James marvelled at this piece of copied muggle technology. It immediately developed the photos taken, he believed it was called a Polaroid Camera or something; it was very useful and quick! He was impressed at the ingenuity of muggles; they always improved their ways. Made things easier for themselves with contraptions inconceivable by his mind. Muggles, stupid? James snorted at the thought. _We're lucky the idea of magic is too ridiculous for them to even consider as a possible answer._

She showed the photo to him, he grinned at it. His son sure looked happy being where he was! He chuckle lightly and took the photo from Lily to walk to the bookcase with their collection of photo albums. Hogwarts, Pre-Harry, Harry-yes, but another one too... Marigold... Ah. There. Family. 

" _Geminio_ " he non-verbally spelled, and watched as the photo made a duplicate of itself. He stuck one photo into Harry's album (from tummy age to present time, the album magically adds a page each time one is fully used up as dictated by owner) and one into the Family album.

As he closed the album and quietly walled back to Lily, photo Harry had rolled over. It made him move away from the gentle hold photo Tom had him in, but not for long though. Photo Tom seemed to wake up and pull photo Harry back into his hold with an arm wrapped around the smaller teen's waist. Both of them curled up in a way that bracketed little Mary in between them in their nest of pillows and blankets; the remnants of their blanket fort.

They didn't know this as they left, but they didn't need to see the photo. Their alive counterparts were doing the same thing, if just a little bit closer.

"I have a feeling we're gonna have to talk to Merope about wedding plans come Harry's graduation." said Lily as they walked up the stairs to their bedroom.

James merely nodded, they can plan as much as they wanted. He had a feeling that whatever happens will happen because the boys wanted it that way, nothing more nothing less. 

Potters and guest slept wonderfully that night.

******

The following morning after Tom had left however, found the Potter heir facing an unhappy mother questioning _why_ her baby girl was asking for coffee instead of her usual apple juice. 

Said Potter heir had also caught a cold from running around in snow yesterday. That was something he didn't share in common with Tom. He was sick, amd Tom wasn't.

As he listened to his mother's scolding he came to the conclusion that Tom's coffee was _definitely_ bad for him. The coffee's propensity to cause him trouble when Tom was factored in was becoming ridiculous.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? 
> 
> Do you guys fully understand the chapter? Was my writing style confusing? Did you guys like Mary?
> 
> Drop me a line or two!
> 
> Thanks for all the Kudos and Comments!

**Author's Note:**

> Drop me a line or two And tell me what you think? Thanks for reading!


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